


(There Is Nothing) More Than This

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anxious Harry Potter, Auror Harry Potter, Background Case, Bathing/Washing, Begging, Caring Draco Malfoy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erections, Exhausted Harry Potter, H/D Sex Fair 2020, Kissing and Sucking, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Married Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Massage, Nipple Licking, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26526199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: Harry Potter returns home past midnight, distressed and anxious about the multiple murder case that he is leading. His husband Draco looks after him, comforting Harry with his hands, his mouth and his unwavering love.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 20
Kudos: 340
Collections: 2020 Harry/Draco Sex Fair





	(There Is Nothing) More Than This

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt [#156](https://docs.google.com/document/d/12_5f6f0xUXhqtWfMlhXRyA8kDC3KGShN3oa_IOD12DY/edit#).
> 
> This fic is dedicated to my lovely anonymous prompter. I'm afraid that I went off message a little bit as I wrote but I hope this story suffices. My prompt was as follows: _Harry can't even begin to explain to Draco how important it is for him to feel Draco's hands on him daily. Why Draco's touch can be the difference between good dreams and bad ones. Harry can't get enough of Draco's fingers: the digits that touch him most often and directly so he associates them with the delivery of most of Draco's affection._
> 
> Thank you for reading xxxxx
> 
> The title is from the brilliant1982 Roxy Music song, _More Than This._

The door of Twelve Grimmauld Place closed behind Harry with the faintest of clicks and Harry cautious padded into the hallway. He toed off his trainers as quietly as he could, aware that it was many hours past midnight.

Draco would already be fast asleep. His husband would be snoring gently under the luxurious, lemon-scented sheets that he always insisted upon. Harry smiled at the image, glad that at least one of them was getting the rest that he needed.

Draco had been holed up in a dozen different meetings with the Ministry Legislative Board all week. When the two wizards had kissed goodbye after breakfast, Draco had already been busy Accio’ing his parchment and notes, his reading glasses perched on his pointed nose. Perhaps the two of them could take a break later that year, visit Narcissa in Cannes and get some sand between their toes? Get away from wizarding London, even if it were only for a weekend?

It was an idyllic thought. Harry missed the idle freedom Draco and he had shared in their twenties, when their careers hadn’t been all-consuming.

Harry yawned and hung up his coat on the peg beside Draco’s own. A swish of his wand shrunk his Auror kit to the size of an egg and he popped it onto the shelf beside the door. It wouldn’t be much more than a matter of hours before he needed it again and Harry frowned, dismayed at the thought.

He made his way through to the living room. Their home was dark, but Draco had charmed two of the lights with a subtle Nox to welcome him home. That was Draco all over. He wasn’t one for flowery expressions of love. That wasn’t the Malfoy way. Draco was all about the small gestures. His actions were far more powerful than his words.

Harry knew that he _ought_ to climb the stairs, strip off his clothes and crawl into bed beside his beloved.

He _ought_ to wrap his arms around Draco’s middle and take a deep breath of the citrusy scent of his skin.

That was why Robards had forced him to go home for a couple of hours. Harry desperately needed to centre himself. He desperately needed time alone with Draco, here in his safe space away from the rest of the world.

Harry couldn’t, though.

Harry couldn’t climb those stairs and lay there beside Draco, his eyes open and staring at the ceiling. Harry knew already that he wouldn’t sleep. The facts and timeline of the NcNally case would roll and dance thought his brain, as tenacious and as antagonising as a curse.

Harry unhooked the fastenings at his throat and slumped down heavily on the settee. He rubbed his eyes beneath his metal frames and sighed. His muscles were sore and tight, and his eyes were itchy with fatigue. There would be delicious food waiting under a stasis spell in the pantry, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to seek it out. He knew full well that it’d taste like ashes in his mouth.

Harry put his head in his rough, calloused hands.

He was Deputy Team Leader. The McNally investigation was his responsibility.

He owed it to the victim’s families to break the case.

Harry heard Draco before he saw him. He heard the creak of the doorway and the gentle pad of Draco’s slippers on the thick pile of the carpet. Harry smelt his husband’s warm, familiar shampoo and then he felt Draco’s lithe fingers carding lightly through his unruly, knotted hair.

“Harry,” Draco said, his tone sleep-roughened but still perfect to Harry’s ears. “I got your owl. I wasn’t sure whether I’d see you tonight.”

“Hello,” Harry replied, nudging his head into Draco’s touch. “Robards sent me packing. Said I looked exhausted. Reminded me I was still married and told me to go home.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Draco replied, his palm resting lightly on the side of Harry’s face. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Harry said as Draco slipped his hand away. He looked over at Draco as he knelt down in front of him. He was dressed in light green silky pyjamas with a monogrammed dressing gown wrapped snugly around his middle. His grey eyes were hooded, cloudy with concern. “Did I wake you?” Harry asked, aware suddenly of just how late it was. “I’m sorry love.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Draco said, taking Harry’s left foot into his hands. He slipped off his sock and massaged his heels with his cushioned pads of his fingertips. Draco’s thumbs caressed tiny circles over his sole and over the ball of his foot. It felt intimate and lovely. “You know I never really sleep when you’re not beside me,” he explained, sliding a smooth finger across Harry’s big toe. “It’s not the same.”

Harry felt some of the anxiety that had radiated through him start to lessen. “That feels good,” Harry murmured, smothering a small yawn with the back of his hand. “I needed that. Been a bloody long day. Been on my feet for most of it.”

Draco’s eyes flashed with sudden, pained worry. “Has something happened?” he asked. “All your note said was that I shouldn’t expect you home. The wireless said there had been a break in the McNally investigation? I assumed that the two must be connected.”

“They were,” Harry replied. His gaze met Draco’s own. The other wizard’s face was open and kind. Draco was a compassionate, tender-hearted man and he worried about Harry and the relentless rigours of his job. Harry didn’t know if he could talk with Draco about what he had seen quite yet. It was still so raw and awful. Images of the crime scene were painted onto the inside of his mind. Others in his team had cried but Harry had been stoic, his teeth gritted. He was Deputy Team Leader. He had to lead by example. “It was hard today,” Harry said, a small hitch in his voice. “Difficult. I’m not sure that I want to talk about it yet.”

Draco nodded and he didn’t push Harry to speak further.

“You should come to bed,” Draco said after the two had sat together for a few minutes. “You’ll think and focus better after a few hours of sleep.”

Harry sighed. He couldn’t. Not yet. “You go up,” he told Draco, giving his fingers a squeeze. “I’ll follow you in a while. I need a few more minutes to decompress, love. I’m too wound up. You go up and warm the bed for me. No point in us both being tired.”

Draco shook his head. “I’m not going to let you just sit down here,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand for Harry to take. Harry took it automatically and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “If you’re not sleepy then I’ve got a better idea about how we can spend our time, Mr. Malfoy-Potter.”

Harry loved it when Draco said their married name. It sounded so suave in his soft, upper-class voice. Draco closed the space between them, cupping the back of Harry’s head with his hand. Their kiss was a balm to Harry’s nerves and he opened his lips to Draco, allowing the other wizard to deepen it. Draco tasted like Lady-Grey tea and teeth cleaning charms and his tongue was a dancing pressure against his own. The two kissed every single day of their lives but neither took their embraces for granted.

Harry was enjoying their kiss but he wasn’t really in the mood to take things any further. Harry could feel Draco’s clever fingers undoing each of the buttons on his robes and he shivered as the material crumpled to the floor. “Draco,” he murmured, breaking their kiss. “I know you’re just trying to distract me – and I do love you for it – but sex isn’t on the cards tonight. Been at work twelve hours.”

Draco’s eyes flicked up to meet Harry’s own and he peeped at him through impossibly long eyelashes. “I know that,” Draco said, running a gentle hand down Harry’s side, “but this isn’t about sex. Trust me, love. Please? This isn’t what you’re thinking.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel intrigued by Draco’s words. He nodded his assent to his husband and stood there as Draco undid the ties on his trousers and pushed them to the floor. His boxer shorts soon followed, as did his other sock. Harry felt his skin goose-bump as the cool air of the room curled over his skin. Draco kept kissing him and his husband’s mouth was so warm and welcoming.

Harry’s stubbly jaw rasped over Draco’s freshly shaven face and he felt the first unravelling of the hot, tight emotion that filled his chest.

“Not about sex?” Harry asked aloud, breaking their kisses once more. His voice was low and questioning. He was wondering precisely why he was stood there in the nude while Draco was still clothed. “Seems pretty sexy from where I’m standing.”

His husband raised a perfectly-manicured eyebrow at Harry.

“Stop _thinking_ so very much,” Draco instructed, letting his hand move downwards so that it was resting lightly on his hip. “Trust me, Harry. I only want to look after you.”

Draco had never tricked or disappointed Harry, not once in six years of marriage.

Honesty was Draco’s everything. It was the watchword that he lived by. Harry decided to submit himself to his beloved and let Draco take care of him, however that might look. He wrapped his arms around the expensive, decadent material of Draco’s gown. It was plush and velvety next to his skin and Harry buried his head into Draco’s shoulder. Just having Draco this close to him was a comfort. He felt some of the horrors of his day begin to recede from the recesses of his consciousness. Harry let out a shaky breath and Draco kissed the messy waves of his hair tenderly.

“So good,” Draco complimented, each of his words a small puff of air against his ears. “My beautiful Harry. Now follow me.”

Harry did as he was told. Draco took him by the hand and led him up the stairs to their bathroom.

Harry watched quietly as his husband popped his wand into a glass on the sink. He set it to shine with a glowing Lumos. Their bath was ludicrously enormous, Engorgio’d to easily fit the pair of them. Draco turned on the taps, holding his hand beneath the water until the temperature pleased him. Harry could see the tendrils of steam rising from the water. His beloved was an entirely cold-blooded creature, his adoration of fiery heat a by-product of a youth spent in his families draughty Manor.

“Will you wash my hair?” Harry asked, gazing unashamed as Draco stripped off his dressing gown and hung it up on the brass hook on the back of the door. He coveted the gentle tug of Draco’s fingertips as they worked the kinks and gnarls out of his knotty locks.

Draco nodded his assent and stripped off his pyjamas. He didn’t care to rush. He folded them into a tidy pile and placed them on the chair.

Merlin, but his darling was a mesmerising sight. His tummy muscles were toned and flat. There was a smattering of almost translucent chest hair between his peaked nipples. Harry watched Draco scrape his long white-blond with a stretchy black band.

Even naked, Draco looked calm, tranquil and fastidious. Despite so many years of marriage, Harry was every bit as besotted as he had been after their first date.

Draco added some jasmine and chamomile oil to the water, filling the bathroom with their sweet, opulent scents. Draco was a great adherent of aromatherapy and Harry let the fragrances wash over him. Some of the heavy load he was carrying began to ease just a little.

It took just a few minutes for the tub to be filled to Draco’s satisfaction. Harry watched his husband get in first and then Harry followed him, settling between Draco’s spread legs. He slid his body down into the scorching water, his body perspiring slightly until he had acclimatised to the temperature. He rested his head on Draco’s chest and let his beloved support his weight.

“Mm,” Harry vocalised quietly, letting his eyes shutter closed and his head fall backwards.

 _This_ was what he needed. Harry was safe here, buoyed by the bathwater and Draco’s arms.

Draco trailed a line of kisses across the line of his shoulder and into the crook of his neck. Harry undulated into the soft press of Draco’s lips. Draco’s skin was as smooth as silk next to his own and he radiated an infinite, boundless love. The two wizards didn’t speak. Harry always needed to be given time for the words to untangle from inside of his chest and Draco was always willing to give it to him.

Harry breathed the jasmine and chamomile down, deep into his lungs, and enjoyed the tickle of Draco idly tracing his fingers through his fuzzy body hair.

“We identified McNally’s third victim today,” Harry said eventually, the words surprising him even as they left his mouth. He hadn’t know he was ready to speak about it yet. “His name was Adam. Adam Clarke. He was so young, Draco. Squib, like all the other victims but no less loved by his family… Twenty-two. So bloody _young_. A trainee Muggle doctor. He attended a university, a place called St Andrews in Scotland. He’d been missing for seven months. Abducted after a night out.”

Harry felt a hot tear of anger and regret leak from the corner of his eye. He had to be so strong in front of his team but here, in the sphere of Draco’s arms, he was finally free to express his sorrow. Harry turned his head and pressed his face into his husband’s collarbone.

“We had to break the news to his parents, love. I had to tell his mother that her son wasn’t ever going to come home, not ever again. She cried, love. She sobbed. She said that he’d never let not having magic stop him, not once in his life. It only made him more determined to use his skills to help people… His father was furious. Livid with me. He couldn’t understand how I could vanquish Voldemort, yet I wasn’t able to apprehend a killer picking Squib children off the bloody _street_ … I couldn’t answer him Draco. I didn’t have the words.”

Harry felt his words halt, the steam-train of sentences running out.

They were close to catching McNally. Harry could feel the edges of the case unravelling before him. Harry knew that McNally would pay for his crimes and his grotesque, ugly prejudices inside an Azkaban cell. That wouldn’t matter a sickle to Adam Clarke’s family though. A million years wouldn’t redress their grief.

Draco held Harry tightly. His husband’s arms were Harry’s safe place. Neither said anything but Draco’s solid presence was enough to tether Harry to the earth.

“I’ve been an Auror a long time now,” Harry said eventually. “I’ve worked a lot of horrifying murders. I’m supposed to be the Deputy Team Leader. Supposed to be the bloody _boss_. I should be better than this, Draco. More of a professional. I shouldn’t let it get to me the way that it does.”

“That’s what makes you good at your job,” Draco replied, stoking Harry’s arm. “Your kindness. Your empathy. Your eternal, sodding Saviour Complex. You’re the best man that I’ve ever met, and that’ll be what breaks this case. Your stubborn good heart.”

Harry didn’t reply to that. He didn’t trust the timbre of his voice.

Harry couldn’t quite believe the faith that his beloved had in him. That faith carried him when he wasn’t able to trust his own judgement. Harry let himself be held then and Draco washed his hair.

His husband scooped up water with his hands and let it run in rivulets over his skin.

Draco massaged the soap into his hair, softly kneading his scalp and stroking the nape of his neck. Draco’s movements were repetitious and calming. It felt great to be cared for and Harry let his whole body become lax, lazy and loose-jointed. When his hair was washed and fresh Draco rinsed away the suds with a cup that they kept beside the bathtub.

The water hadn’t been charmed to keep its warmth and Harry felt the heat of it vanish as the minutes passed by. The water was very still around the two of them, its only movement the tiny ripples that corresponded with their breathing. Harry let himself go limp against Draco’s body, losing track of the time as the minutes passed.

When the temperature faded to lukewarm Draco leant over and brushed a kiss over the top of his head.

“Time to get out,” Draco said, helping Harry to his feet and out of the tub. All the vigour and strength had left his body and Harry found himself swaying on his feet, unable to even reach for the towel. Draco seemed to have expected as much and he dried Harry off with a gigantic Egyptian cotton towel that wasn’t much smaller than a bed sheet. Harry normally made do with a quick drying spell but this was far more pleasant. Draco paid rapt attention to all his bumps and crevices and soon he was buffed and clean. “Look at you,” Draco admired as he made much more rapid work of drying his own body. “Clean as a newborn owlet.”

Harry had to smile at that innocent description. Draco picked up his wand and the two wizards joined hands and walked through to their bedroom. The room was as tasteful and as tidy as Draco always insisted upon, the only aberration being the rumpled sheets where Draco had lain before.

“Lay down on your belly,” Draco asked and Harry acquiesced, enjoying letting Draco take the lead.

The sheets felt fantastic next to his fresh, towelled-pink skin and he inhaled the rich scent of lemony freshness that would forever be associated with Draco. He nuzzled his nose into the dense cotton of the pillow, filling his lungs. He might have looked daft but Harry didn’t care. He wanted to fill his every sense with his beloved.

“You look so gorgeous,” Draco said from beside the bed. “Utterly magnificent.” Harry felt the faint tingle of Draco’s familiar magic as he cast a spell to break the Colloportus that locked their bedside table. There was a rustle as Draco delved deep within the drawer and then Harry clink of glass against metal as Draco unscrewed the lid from their massage oil.

The bed dipped as Draco got on. Harry felt the muscular heft of his husband’s thighs straddle either side of his hips. His slick, oiled palms waited in the small of Harry’s back.

“You’re so tense,” Draco observed. “Let me help you feel better.”

Harry moaned into the white cotton as Draco’s hand moved across his back with a lengthy, drawn-out sweep. Draco’s fingers really were magic. Harry undulated and wriggled under his husband’s touches. Draco’s thumbs ran over the line of his spine, and then outward.

They curled and curved over his shoulder blades and massaged out the tension that had slowly built up there over the previous hours and days.

Draco was a fabulous masseur and Harry soon felt every bone in his body dissolve.

His husband pressed his thumbs into the base of Harry’s back and pressed there. Draco rolled his knuckles over Harry’s skin, using his weight until it was nearly painful.

Draco drew the last, hidden tension and strain from Harry’s muscles and then Draco spread it out, pushing and diffusing until the aching tautness was banished forever.

Draco’s long, lissome fingertips drew small circles and whorls onto the muscles of Harry’s shoulders. "It felt almost _too - yes_ ,” Harry gasped, his body nearly melting into a puddle on the quilt cover. “Your bloody hands, Malfoy! You’re so _good_ at this.”

“My hands are reserved entirely for you,” Draco replied, the smallest hint of a smirk in his aristocratic voice. Draco dropped his head and he licked a hot strip across Harry’s shoulder blade. Draco’s tongue was a rough little rasp and Harry felt the unmistakeable coil of attraction bubble in the base of his belly. His cock swelled, growing hard, full and heavy. “Reserved entirely for my husband.”

Draco lent forward then and Harry felt the heavenly weight of his husband settling fully on top of him.

His flat, scarred chest rested across Harry’s back and the feeling stole the oxygen out of Harry’s lungs. He was pinned to the bed but Harry adored the sensation. Harry was restricted, confined and totally covered by Draco. He could feel the thrumming of Draco’s heart and the fluttering gentleness of his husband’s breath on his skin. Draco nibbled and nuzzled at the tender erogenous spot on his throat.

The two wizards stayed like that for a few moments but then Draco’s tongue began to move downwards.

Draco’s fingertips trailed as lightly as the wings of a snitch, leaving trails of effervescent, sparkling warmth wherever they ventured. His mouth gave special attention to each of the bumps of Harry’s ribcage, kissing and nipping, licking and petting. It was wholly divine. Harry frotted the long length of his prick into the mattress, his skin oversensitive and quivering.

“Please don’t stop,” Harry managed as his husband paused at the very base of his spine. “ _Please_. Love your hands and your lips. Love you, Draco.”

“Love you too,” Draco murmured in reply. Harry buried his head in the pillow as Draco continued his delightful care. Draco paid special attention to the area just about the cleft of his arse, sucking the soft skin between his teeth and making it tingle.

Harry felt his whole body shudder, which Draco took as confirmation to continue. He pressed a multitude of wet, open-mouthed kisses to the plump curves of his bottom. With each Draco moved ever closer to the centre.

It was the sweetest of tortures and Harry was relishing every moment. He arched his back upwards, wriggling his hips invitingly.

“Mm,” Draco complimented. “Look at you. You’re glorious.” Harry heard his husband chuckle and then he leant in, licking a long strip from the base of his spine to the very cleft of his arse.

Harry bit his lips but a frustrated whimper escaped despite his best efforts.

“More,” Harry urged, bucking his hips. “Your kisses–your _mouth_ –I love how you take care of me.”

Draco seemed to like Harry’s praise. Draco kissed him once more and this time Harry felt the faint scrape of teeth over his tail-bone. Harry slid his hand beneath his belly and gave his cock a swift tug. He hadn’t realised just how turned on the massage had left him and spirals of satisfaction rolled over his skin.

Draco wasn’t about to let him orgasm that easily though.

He grasped Harry’s hand and pulled it away gently. “ _No_. Not yet,” Draco whispered firmly. “I told you that I’d look after you. I didn’t fib.” Harry nodded and then he tucked his hands beneath his head. He knew that Draco would give him everything that he needed.

His cock was impossibly hard, tucked beneath his body and above the sheets.

Harry heard the click of the oil bottle once more and then Draco’s fingers were tracking a pleasing trail across his bottom. He slid them over Harry’s perineum, leaving a slick, slippery path over Harry’s most private, secret parts.

The next moment Draco’s tongue followed the same path.

Harry couldn’t help but writhe and squirm. It was too much yet it wasn’t enough. He moaned wantonly, enjoying the heat and titillation of his husband’s mouth. He pushed his hips backwards, urging Draco to give him more attention with his every movement.

Draco tongued and lapped at Harry, giving extra care and attention to the cluster of nerves just behind his balls. After a few minutes of this Draco moved his head away but his absence was only to help Harry up onto his knees.

He positioned Harry’s bottom high up in the air and then Draco reverently kissed and licked his husband’s sensitive, furled opening.

Harry gasped and groaned, his face and fingers tangled up in the sheets, while Draco made wet, sexy work of his puckered hole. Draco held Harry’s cheeks apart with his hands as his tongue flicked and danced over his entrance. Then he dipped inside, tickling and arousing his sensitised inner rim.

Everything felt just _brilliant_.

The last vestiges of Harry’s worries flew out of his mind. All that existed for him in the world was Draco.

Draco’s _mouth_.

Draco’s _lips_.

Draco’s darting, naughty tongue.

Harry felt slick, and loose and utterly wanton. His cock was a solid, achy rod that bobbed, sticky and leaking, against his belly. Draco was so very good at rimming; every jerk and jolt of Harry’s body was anticipated and met with equal pressure.

Draco’s mouth was generous, yet greedy, and Harry needed so much more.

“ _Please_ ,” Harry begged, his body sweating and his sanity starting to fray. His voice was high and fraught. “Please. I need to – ah! I have to – please, Draco. Let me.” Harry couldn’t resist any longer. His fingers strayed back to his cock and he got one, two, nearly three tugs before Draco pulled away his hand away once more.

“You’ll have a lovely climax,” Draco said, his voice a sensual rumble from deep in his chest. “That I promise. Right now though, let me look after you.”

All Harry could do was moan. Thoughtful, reasoned argument was far beyond his abilities now.

Draco aimed his tongue as deeply as he could, pressing its rough, warm surface deep inside of Harry. It twisted and wriggled and Harry let out a deep whine. It was scandalously intimate and Harry felt a lusty shudder run through him. His cock bumped against his belly with a soft jerk. Harry knew he was near and Draco must have sensed that too. The other wizard knew Harry’s physical reactions far better than his own.

Draco pulled his face away and gave Harry a bite on his fleshiest part of his bottom. It wasn’t anywhere enough to draw blood but Harry still blinked in astonishment. It was just enough to pull his body back from the very precipice of pleasure.

Draco soothed the bite with a couple of chaste kisses.

“Turn over,” Draco requested and Harry did as he was told.

Harry looked up at Draco after he had rolled over. His husband looked utterly intoxicating. His lips were wet and pink and the flush sat high on his cheekbones. His grey eyes were blown wide with enjoyment and his normally coiffured hair was mussed. He looked sexy and Harry shivered with anticipation.

“Mm,” Draco murmured. “You’re _more_ than ready to come, aren't you love? You want it so much.”

“I _do_ ,” Harry managed, “So, so much. Please. I want to come.”

Draco crawled over Harry, mouthing and kissing at the hard points of his tight little nipples. It was maddening and teasing, and Draco thought that he might quite go out of his mind with the tease of it. “Please,” he gasped, watching as Draco started to brush kisses further downwards. “Please, love. Please, please-”

“I said that I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” Draco replied, licking a line down Harry’s chest. He brushed his tongue in little circles over Harry’s navel and made a small carnal noise as he licked the pre-come from the base of Harry’s belly. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Without any further warning, Draco swallowed the head of Harry’s cock. He swirled his tongue around the head, sucking deeply and it felt blissful. Harry groaned and his hips stuttered upwards automatically. Draco anticipated Harry’s move, swiftly rising with his husband’s body.

Draco pushed Harry downwards and took him deep, swallowing Harry’s shaft with his receptive mouth. Draco curled one of his hands around the base of his cock and the other slid behind his balls and cupped them lightly, caressing and rubbing them gently in his smooth palm. Draco’s lips were red hot, and snug, and Harry felt light-headed with the pleasure of them. “Oh yes,” he rambled, the words running from him like a unsnarled spell. “That’s it. Like that. I’ll come, love… I won’t be able stop myself.”

Draco’s fingers escaped from Harry’s ball and shimmed over to his anus. Harry let out a high-pitched noise as two of them slid easily into his body. He was still so slick and sleek from the oil and from Draco’s rimming that they moved within him easily. The intense pressure was perfect and Draco found his prostate with no difficulty at all.

Harry saw stars at the edges of his vision. Pinioned between Draco’s mouth and his fingers, Harry knew that his orgasm was imminent. The tendrils of it were already spreading out from the head of his penis, relentless and exciting.

“Harder,” Harry shouted, all decorum and propriety lost. “Just like that, please. Your fucking _mouth_ , Draco–ah!–and your _fingers_.”

Draco milked Harry’s magic spot with the pads of his fingers, slipping and sliding around the edges and then pressing in its very centre, making Harry jerk and whine. Unable to control himself, Harry thrust forward, his cock filling Draco’s mouth.

His beloved’s talented tongue worked around him, enthusiastic and impatient.

Harry opened his eyes and really _looked_ at Draco. His face was feverish with colour and saliva rolled down his chin. His lips were stretched wide around the girth of his cock and his eyes were shiny and dazed.

Draco met Harry’s gaze and took it for a challenge.

Draco swallowed Harry’s cock even deeper, so much so that it brushed the very back of his throat. Draco’s fingertips milked his prostate–giving Harry not a second of respite –and then, before Harry could comprehend the sensation, Harry orgasmed.

He arched his back, curled his toes and gasped, his whole body shuddering with a million pinpricks of pleasure.

Aftershocks swam through his body in heady waves. Harry knew he was vocalising but the sounds were distant to his ears. His head was devoid of thought. Harry didn’t know who he was, where he was or even his name.

All he knew in the world was Draco and this vivid, divine pleasure that consumed his very being.

Harry felt himself drift, closing his eyes as Draco removed his fingers and placed a final sweet kiss on the head of his softening cock. He let himself relax, sinking deeply into the mattress as Draco Scourgified away the sweat and oil from his skin in wave upon wave of familiar, comforting magic.

Harry thought that he must have nodded off, for when he opened his eyes once more, Draco was beside him. Draco’s long, svelte body spooned around his own and his husband’s angular chin rested on his shoulder. Their bodies were one long line of heat, right down to their toes.

Harry blinked, shifting his head a little so that their faces were pressed together.

“Draco,” Harry said, his voice drowsy and thick with weariness. “I’m sorry, love. We _didn’t_ … I mean, you never got the chance to… I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that. We still could, if you liked-”

“Oh, hush,” Draco said, smiling as he cut in. He stroked a protective hand through the hair on Harry’s tummy. “This here is everything that I wanted. I wanted to look after you – to _care_ for you – and I did. I happen to love you, Harry.”

“That doesn't seem very fair,” Harry argued, although he was already halfway back to the land of Nod. His eyelids were heavy and the pillows were irresistibly soft.

Harry felt Draco’s soft breath as he nuzzled against his neck and he heard Draco make a small noise of contentment. When nothing else in his life made sense, Harry always had Draco. Draco pressed a kiss on Harry’s hair and knotted their fingers together lightly.

Harry could feel the thin gold band of their wedding rings pressing against each other’s. Draco was his love. His darling. The other half of his soul.

“Thank you,” Harry murmured, letting his eyes shutter closed. “I enjoyed it too.”

 _Draco was everything that Harry needed_.

And with that one last thought, Harry fell fast asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please support the author by clicking on the kudos button and leaving a comment below! ♥


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